


At the edge of the senses

by Kateryna2801



Series: Far from beginning [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateryna2801/pseuds/Kateryna2801
Summary: The story takes place in ten years after @Far from the beginningArthur is an orfan who catch an eye of the powerfull senior who doesnt stand any rebelion and independence from junior especially the human one.
Series: Far from beginning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154954
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys)  
> this is my second work in the same univers)
> 
> so please read, enjoy, comment and mark kudos) 
> 
> PS: English is not my first language so please excuse my mistakes)

The back room adjoining the kitchen was hot and smelly. There was nothing to breathe. The smell of burnt oil, fresh fish and slightly stale vegetables had not caused nausea because everyone is already used to it. But Arthur hated it. He hated it because it seeped into his hair and skin through his clothes; for settling in his small apartment, above the 24/7 store, and for telling who and what he was before Arthur could even open his mouth and introduce himself. 

Arthur sat bent over the notebook, rubbing his temples. This upstart Martin wished that this time the solution to the problem would be different from his classmates, most of whom he also did their homework. The bloody arrogant bastard. This was going to be a pain in the ass. The standard solutions given in the textbooks and websites that he had searched up and down were repeated, and Arthur was now sitting on alternative calculations. 

\- Arthur! What the fuck are you doing? - A voice came from the kitchen, and Port appeared in the doorway. Obese, flabby fellow, with a hairy chest and huge furry arms. He stood with his hands on his hips and stared unfriendly at Arthur. - Are you getting paid to chill out here?! The dishes will not wash themselves! Let's move!

Port wiped his hands on a dirty, once white apron wrapped around a fat belly, spat through clenched teeth, and left. Arthur grimaced disdainfully, closed the notebook and followed. The shift was coming to an end, his back was aching from standing so long and his eyes were watering. Besides Port, there was another kid on the shift, Willy. Skinny, nosy, covered in pimples. Nice guy, but scampish. Though if Arthur had been any luck himself, he wouldn't have stood ten-hour shifts in that dumpy diner for the pennies they paid. Today he was at the sink, tomorrow at the stove. One was no better than the other. The job was a shitwork , but still better than dig in the trash. But he's free, does not account to anyone, , lives as he pleases - he's his own boss. Plus, the rich motherfuckers from the prestigious university brought him good money, and he, having paid for the apartment, and his daily needs still managed to save a bit. 

The last customer, an elderly imperial, in the uniform of a car service worker, paid for his beer and left. It was fifteen minutes to twelve. Port checked the cash register while Arthur and Willy mopped the floor and wiped down the tables and the bar counter. 

\- I'm gathering a small party on my birthday - Willy remembered as he and Arthur walked down the half-lit street toward the 10th district - one of the poorest districts in the city - black, dilapidated houses with broken windows and crooked roofs. Heaps of garbage in the driveways, where instead of a green lawn, dry, withered grass with bald patches. - Grab your boys, we'll have a beer and chew on something.

\- When did we refuse free beer and grub?! - Arthur grinned - Of course we will come.

\- Great, then come next Saturday. Well, see you tomorrow! – Willy waved to Arthur and disappeared into a dark, unlit alley. Arthur lit a cigarette, fixed the notebooks under his armpit, and moved towards his apartment.

The first thing he did when he got home was take a shower and hang things outside the window to ventilate the nasty, corrosive smell of a cheap diner. He rummaged in the refrigerator and made himself a sandwich from the leftover food and sat down to work. He decided to do the easiest tasks first, three in math and one in physics, leaving Martin's work for the very end. He had been puzzling over for hours. The solution spun on the tongue and annoyed, but he still could not formulate it. Arthur leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and relaxed. Three-dimensional models of equations jumped before his eyes. He mentally interchanged their parts, substituted new values, and moved from one equation to another. Finally the solution came, like an explosion, like a piercing throb of orgasm, bringing with it peace and tranquility. Arthur smiled and licked his lips.

***

It took Martin a while to realize what had happened. On Friday he handed his work to Professor Norton, and on Monday after classes he was summoned to Dean Krause's office, and both interrogated him. Norton wondered how he had come up with such an unusual solution to the problem, what sources had he used, and whether anyone had helped him? What did this idiot Arthur write there?

_If I see him, I'll kick the bastard's ass! For setting me up like that..._

Martin was really freaked out when they took his phone away and locked him in one of the classrooms without any answers. No one explained anything to him, and he was sitting for hours already on an uncomfortable wooden chair with his head resting on the table. Just as he began to fall asleep, the door opened and three men entered...

***

Ashtar walked briskly along the corridor of one of the most influential and prestigious universities in the Empire. Built on the site of a former factory, in ten years it had grown to five buildings, with the most modern laboratories, library and observatory. The best teachers came here and seniors from the best families of the Empire studied. The same twin university was in the Empire itself, but trying to actively develop the continent, students and teachers were encouraged to work and study here in every possible way. He was asked to come by Dean Krause, referring to an emergency, and now, despite the late hour, he was there.

\- Ser Plank! - Dean Krause jumped up from his seat and ran to the imperial that entered his office - Thank you for responding to our request. This is Professor Norton!

\- Pleased to meet you! - Ashtar shook hands with the professor and sat down in the chair across from the Dean. Norton sat down next to him.

\- We have an emergency - the Dean began carefully, looking at Norton - We suspect that there is a cheating among the students at the university...

\- Hmmm ... - Ashtar stretched out and leaned back in his chair. - What kind of cheating?

\- Professor Norton - asked the Dean - Please tell us everything from the very beginning.

\- On Friday, one of my students, handed his homework that really interested me... - Norton turned in his chair towards the Imperial and began to talk, nervously tapping his finger on the dean's desk. - The solution to the equation was so original, I wouldn't even be afraid of the word, genius. I spent the whole weekend consulting with colleagues from other universities and research institutes, but not a single one, I emphasize, not a single honored expert was able to explain the course of this solution. Do you understand?

\- Not really - Ashtar admitted

\- Martin, a third-year student whose work we are discussing, could not solve such a problem on his own. He is, to put it mildly, mediocre in the mathematical science, despite being a generally good student.

\- And you thought someone had done his homework for him?! - Ashtar guessed.

\- Quite right! - Exclaimed the Dean, and his eyes gleamed feverishly - And this reveals two problems: first - the reputation of the university suffers. How can we guarantee the level of specialists if they are graded on fake papers?! And the second...

\- The second is - Norton dared to interrupt him - that somewhere within the walls of our university there is a genius who is capable of confusing the best minds of the Empire with his inferences!

\- I see - Ashtar frowned and scratched the bridge of his nose - The situation is unpleasant, to say the least, and dangerous, indeed, as it casts doubt on the entire education system. How can I help you in solving this problem?

\- We have a favor to ask. - After calming his fervor a little, the dean answered. - We tried to question this Martin, but without success, neither threatening nor pleading helps. Perhaps you, as a respected Imperial, a representative of one of the ruling families and the head of the Board of Trustees of the University, can influence...

\- How?

The Dean and the professor exchanged glances. Ashtar raised an eyebrow with interest as he looked at the confused men.

\- Can we promise on your behalf that the information received from the student will not affect his studies in any way?! - The Dean suggested embarrassedly. - That whatever he says, the administration will not use punishment against him... So to speak, let's make a deal... 

\- Hmmm… very unusual… - Ashtar thought. - But if in this way we can quickly and quietly, without washing dirty linen in public, solve the problem, then let's try. Where is this student?

***

...three men entered. He recognized two of them at once - Dean Krause and Professor Norton - but he remembered the third only after he had been introduced. It was tall, swarthy senior, with a thin nose and well-defined cheekbones. The noble one.

\- Ser Ashtar Plank - the Dean introduced him, and all three sat down at the table across from Martin.

Everything inside Martin went cold. Of course, he knew this imperial and his family. Everyone knew.

_Fucking hell_

\- Martin - Norton began quietly -You already know why we're here, so let's not repeat ourselves.

\- I did nothing ... - the student began to make excuses, but the Dean interrupted him.

\- Ser Plank is here for one single reason - as a guarantor of what we will now offer you.

Martin hid his cold hands under his armpits so no one would see them shaking. His fate was at stake now, and he knew it very well.

\- You tell us who solves tasks for you, and the university administration, in my person, and in the person of Ser Plank, promises that no matter what you say, no one will know about it, and no measures will be taken against you, or other students - said the Dean. - Our goal is to find and stop the violations and identify this...hmmm... extraordinary student.

\- You have nothing to fear - Ashtar said in a calm but cold voice. - Tell the truth, and all this will be over. You’ll be able to go back to your dorm and forget everything like a bad dream. But if you decide to keep quiet - here he paused - then we will have to consider your exclusion and initiate an official check, which will affect all your friends and classmates. And believe me, we'll get our answers one way or another.

Martin bit his lip and after a short pause spoke up.

\- There is one guy, Arthur. He does homework for almost half of the students, and not only of our university.

\- In mathematics? - Norton perked up.

\- Maths, physics, chemistry... they say he even did some calculations on gravitational fields for astrophysicists... but I'm not sure. In general, he helps, for money, everyone from freshmen to graduate students.

There was a heavy pause in the room. The Dean was panting, Norton was blinking his eyes, unable to believe what he was hearing, only Ashtar sat with an impenetrable expression, only occasionally narrowing his eyes.

\- Who is he? - Professor could not resist, jumping up from his chair – What year? Which department?

\- Mmmmm ... - Martin hesitated - the point is that he does not study at our university. In general, he does not study in any ... Honestly, I'm not sure that he even graduated from school...

Professor, dumbfounded, noisily sat back on the chair and grabbed his head. Ashtar just grinned, got up, straightened his jacket and with a short: _find him_ , went out.


	2. Chapter 2

Professor Norton was nervous. He had been up all night, and he had hardly endured the lessons and consultations - the impatience was bursting out of him. In order not to miss anything important from the future meeting, he decided to take his assistant Patrick with him.

They found the right place at once. Although Martin didn't know Arthur’s full name, he explained how to find the place where he works, and now they were impatiently stomping at the entrance, not daring to enter.

\- Are you going to stand in the doorway? - There was a low voice behind them, and an unpleasant-looking sturdy unceremoniously pushed the professor with his shoulder and burst into the diner.

\- What a boor! - Patrick squeaked in the trail of the already closed door, and turned to Norton - Are you alright professor?

\- Yes, yes, I'm fine - Norton adjusted his jacket, pulled himself up, and entered the diner with a determined stride.

It was an unremarkable place, one of thousands lost in various parts of the city. If they differed from each other, it was the degree of cleanliness and the stench exuding from the local cuisine. There was almost no one in the room, a couple of imperials at the tables, and one junior at the bar. Skinny, pimply. That's where they headed.

Professor sat down on a bar stool, once covered in cow leather, but now half gutted, with cotton sticking out of it, and turned to the boy.

\- Good afternoon, Sire - professor hesitated, but the boy didn't even blink - Can I talk to Arthur?

\- Are you going to make an order? - The guy asked in a colorless, monotonous voice and stared at the professor.

Professor looked around, straightened his tie for some reason, and nodded.

\- Yes of course. Coffee please.

\- Is that all? - The boy was completely unimpressed with the order, so he glanced at Patrick. Seeing this, Professor’s assistant turned away and stared out the window.

\- Uhhhh ... what else do you have?

\- The menu is in front of you - the guy jabbed a skinny finger at the soiled plastic plate, and hung over the professor. Norton tried to discern something in there, but the excitement made it impossible to concentrate, so he chose at random. The guy shouted the name of the dish somewhere into the depths of the kitchen and turned back to the professor.

\- Arthur - Norton reminded him.

\- Arthur, there's someone here to see you! - He yelled again somewhere behind his back and began to rub the counter ostentatiously, right under the noses of the professor and Patrick. 

A minute later something rumbled in the kitchen, and a young man appeared right behind the boy's back. Quite tall, well-built, short cropped dark hair. Steel gray eyes looked defiantly at the professor. 

The first surprise for Norton was that Arthur was a junior - Martin forgot to specify this detail. Professor looked back at Patrick for support, but he stared openly at the newcomer. Is this not a mistake? Norton could not remember a single junior whose intellectual ability could be rated above average. Although ... they hadn't been educated as such, so where did that ability come from?! Hothouse flowers. 

\- Arthur - Professor cleared his throat and introduced himself. - My name is Professor Richard Norton, I teach a course in applied and theoretical mathematics at the university.

Arthur was as unimpressed with this information, as was the boy behind the bar earlier with the order, so he continued to stand silently, leaning against the doorjamb.

\- I… ughm… I would like to discuss your work - Norton opened his bag and pulled out a notebook. Arthur took a quick glance at the notebook and turned his gaze to the professor.

\- Do I look like a student at your university? - He asked sarcastically, grinning wryly.

\- You look like a person who should have been...

\- But I haven't - said Arthur coldly - and I don't think I ever will.

\- But still I would like to discuss ... - Norton tried to return to the subject, but Arthur interrupted him.

\- There is nothing to discuss. You made an order, I still have to prepare it - and he pushed himself from the doorjamb with his shoulder and turned to leave.

\- You made a mistake in the calculations - Norton threw him in the back.

Arthur froze in place and slowly turned around. For a moment, curiosity appeared in his eyes, but immediately his gaze became cold and impenetrable again.

\- You made a gross mistake - Professor pushed the notebook, open in the right place, to the edge of the counter, closer to Arthur. He reluctantly approached and took it in his hands, ran eyes over it and tossed it on the counter.

\- There is no mistake here - Arthur remarked and gave the professor a cold look. He looked at Patrick, sitting with a thin line of pressed lips, and grinned evilly. - It must be bad teaching at the university, if you are consulting with a guy from a cheap diner. 

Then he straightened up abruptly and repeated _there is no mistake_.

\- The error is not in the calculation itself, but in the choice of approach to performing the calculation - Norton finally agreed. There really was no mistake, as there was no good reason to get this junior's attention. He had to improvise.

\- It's a common choice - Arthur was indignant at Norton's attempt to hurt him. He pulled out a pencil from his breast pocket and began to quickly compose equations - I expanded the algebraic equation in the opposite direction ... entered the integral and replaced it with a finite sum .... reversed...

\- Wow - Professor exhaled, and shook his head, keeping his eyes on a sheet of the notebook, already almost entirely written out in pencil.

\- There is nothing new here - Arthur got angry - Everyone knows it!

There was silence. Arthur swallowed, confused by the reaction of professor, who was looking at him spellbound.

\- What? - Arthur asked a little frightened.

\- I'm afraid at most a dozen people in the Empire and the Continent know this... Who are you? Where are you from? - He got up, trying to grab Arthur by the arm, but the man jerked away and staggered backward.

\- What's your full name?

\- None-of-your-fucking-business, that's my name - Arthur snapped and turned towards the kitchen - If there are no more orders, have a nice day.

\- Arthur! - Professor shouted at his back, but the young man only raised his hand, flipped him the bird, and disappeared from sight.

***

Arthur was sitting in the study, looking around gloomily. Tall, wooden panels on the walls. Bulky cabinets, with neat rows of multi-colored book spines. A carved wooden table, leather armchairs, and a sofa. It's amazing how, despite the dark tones of the study, it managed to be quite bright. The interior was tastefully executed, though it was too pretentious in Arthur's opinion. He had seen such interiors in magazines and old photographs from Victorian times. Not a study, but the embodiment of classics and conservatism. Arthur found it hard to breathe for a moment, as the walls themselves seemed to weigh down on him by its bookshelves and pictures in bulky gold frames.

He sat in an armchair and replayed in his head all that he would say to the one who will now enter this study. And he had a lot to say.

A few hours ago, he was getting ready for work, dressing and finishing his cereal with milk, when a knock came at the door, and two security officers, after briefly asking his name, shoved him into the car in spite of all his protests and indignation. Nobody explained anything to him, but judging by the fact that they did not come to the police station, but to this completely unfamiliar place, things might not be so bad.

Arthur was angry beyond measure.

Just when he already thought that they had forgotten about him, the door opened, letting in a tall imperial man, in a perfectly fitting black suit. He looked impressive. 

_Some kind of prime minister from the old times_ , thought Arthur, not taking his eyes off the newcomer.

The Imperial sat down at the table and opened the folder he had brought with him. Arthur stretched himself tensely in the chair, craning his neck in an attempt to see what was in the folder, but the chair wasn't close enough to the table, so he turned away in frustration. The Imperial finally leaned back in his chair and looked at Arthur.

\- My name is Ashtar Plank - Imperial said calmly - Ser Plank to you. So, Arthur Gore. Twenty years old, an orphan. Raised at St. John's Orphanage. Lived in foster care until eighteen, the whereabouts undetermined. Until today.

Arthur made no comment on the imperial's words. He only pressed his lips tightly and narrowed his eyes angrily. He hated when someone meddled in his affairs, especially those related to his family circumstances. An orphan sounded like the stigma of a loser, rejected not only by his family, but also by society as well. He knew too well what price could be given for him to harbor illusions about the kindness of others. What could be easier than hurting an orphan with no one to stand up for him!? Arthur knew only one person on whom he used to rely - himself.

\- And you were identified under very disgusting circumstances. Fraud - the Imperial frowned disdainfully.

\- There was no fraud on my part! - Arthur hissed through clenched teeth.

\- In a most disgusting way the rules were violated, not only of the respected institution, but of the education system as a whole - Imperial continued, ignoring Arthur's remark - This situation is unacceptable, and measures will be taken accordingly.

\- I'm not a student at this "respected" institution of yours - Arthur said irritably - and no rules apply to me. If you want to look for the culprits, look for them within the walls of the university.

\- I want. And I'll start with you - the imperial remarked coldly - You may not be a student, and you do not have to obey the rules of the University, but you live in the Empire, and must follow its rules and laws. If it were up to me, I would apply the full force of the punishment, but considering our professors' interest in your talents - he paused - and also not the typical situation, the decision will be next: you will be sent to the University, where you will take all the courses the administration deems necessary. The Board of Trustees will provide a scholarship for your upkeep and studying, and until you are handed over to your senior, you will be under the care of the Board of Trustees. Is it clear? 

\- No - Arthur answered shortly, without hesitation.

\- What's not clear?

\- No, I don't agree - Arthur answered slowly

\- Nobody asks your opinion on this matter - the imperial remarked, examining the younger one appraisingly.

\- You have no right to decide for me what to do and how to live - Arthur hissed. He was beginning to shiver with anger.

\- I'm afraid I have. You are the property of the Empire. And the Empire, in my face, will decide your fate - the imperial said slowly and grinned predatory. A chill ran down Arthur's spine. The indignation that had previously overwhelmed him all died away at the imperial’s unexpected remark. He clearly did not count on such a trump card from his adversary. 

\- Where was the Empire when I was dragged from one foster family to another? - He blurted out bitterly - Where was it when I had nothing to eat and nothing to wear to school? When no one gave a shit where I slept or would I return home safe and sound?

\- We'll deal with the guardianship authorities, who will be punished for their negligence - the imperial replied calmly - but it's none of your business. From today on, you are a university student. You will take all the necessary tests to determine your general level of knowledge in all subjects, and to establish your career orientation. Also, after our communication, I see the need for you to study the rules and laws of the Empire. Including the rules of behavior for juniors in society. Every week, I will receive a report on your progress, after which I will draw the appropriate conclusions. 

\- You won't make me - Arthur whispered softly.

\- We will, and believe me, you will not like our methods. If you don’t know how the juniors are punished, you'll have a chance to find out, if you choose disobedience.

Arthur somehow immediately softened in his chair and blinked, trying to push away the tears. The blatant injustice took his breath away, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat and would not let it go. 

\- You will be escorted to your dorm room and given new clothes. All of these - he contemptuously cast his hand over the seated figure of Arthur - will be thrown away. You won't walk around like that anymore. You will also undergo a medical examination ...

\- Is the Empire afraid of lice? Arthur hissed viciously.

\- No - imperial grinned crookedly - we are not afraid. We crush them.

The meeting came to an end, and Ashtar summoned the university staff to take Arthur away. When they were halfway to the exit, the imperial called out to him.

\- And Arthur, when I promised you that you would be punished for disobedience, I meant it. And I always keep my promises. Do you understand?

\- Yes

\- Yes Ser – corrected him imperial.

\- Yes, ser...


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur was settled in a separate wing with no more than a dozen juniors, mostly from respectable families, who were allowed a university education. The juniors were educated in the humanities, which, mostly served to maintenance the small talk and entertained of their seniors, rather than to develop professional skills. In general, the juniors from simpler families, in addition to secondary education, could complete various courses: nurses, secretaries, administrators, hairdressers, sometimes designers came across, but this was rather an exception to the rule. Those who, for various reasons, could not complete the courses, worked as salesmen, waiters, etc.

Arthur was the only junior enrolled in technical courses, and the only one on the welfare of the board of trustees, not rich parents. His room was located on the second floor of a three-story building, at the back of the campus, strictly guarded by an attendant - a skinny, middle-aged junior. Sire Marcus, the duty officer, conducted a round of the rooms exactly at 8 pm, checking that everyone was at their place, that there were no intruders, especially the senior ones, and that there were no prohibited items such as cigarettes, alcohol, prohibited literature and, God forbid, drugs. After that the building was locked until 7 am. On the floor, besides Arthur's room, there were three other rooms, two of which were occupied by the juniors, whom he encountered in the hallway, where he was led in under the supervision of university staff. The junior ones looked at him squeamishly and disappeared into one of the rooms.

The room was small but bright enough. A large, full-wall stained-glass window overlooked a densely planted park. Tall, old oaks and maples leaned against the facades of the buildings, and under a light breeze, knocked on the windows with their branches. In his room were a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, just below the window. A stack of books, writing utensils, and a laptop were already waiting for him on the table. On the bed was a pile of new clothes, towels and toiletries. Arthur walked over to the table and revised books one by one: mathematics, physics, chemistry, sociology and cultural studies. He was satisfied with the choice of books. Next to the notebooks he found a schedule of classes and a student ID that allowed him free access to the library and the university cafeteria.

He went into the bathroom, which was in the hallway, one for all four rooms. Arthur washed his hands, and face. . Anger was still bubbling inside, and he needed to cool it down, and the ice-cold water was more welcome than ever. On the way back to his room, he heard laughter from the room where the two juniors had disappeared earlier. He stood by their door, listening, but didn't hear anything, grimaced, mimicking them, and went to his room. He lay down on the bed and took out his cell phone. There were several missed calls: one from Willie, and two from the landlord. He called him back first.

\- Arthur?! - There was a worried voice.

Carlisle was a great guy, Arthur loved him - he always treated him like a father, and always entered into his position. The old man had no children of his own, so he saw Arthur as more than just a tenant. And Arthur, in his turn, tried to repay Carlisle in any way he could - if necessary, he'd take over at the cash register and meet the messenger. It was already hard for the old man to cope alone and Arthur saw it.

\- Arthur, son, where are you? What happened?

\- Hey, Car. I'm on campus. I’m fine - Arthur winced. He didn't want to frighten the old man, besides, he himself had not yet figured out whether he was okay or not. - I ... I got accepted to the university. Can you imagine?!

There was a pause at the other end of the line. He could hear the old man breathing heavily.

\- I'm very happy for you, kid - Car said finally - but ... what do they want in return? You know it's impossible for a person like us (he was a human) to just get into that damn University...

 _Good question Car, very good question_.

\- As far as I can tell, they are interested in my mathematical ability - Arthur grimaced. He hated talking about his talents. He knew he was different from others, but he always took it for granted, as a natural part of himself - And so far, they haven’t voiced a payment to me...

\- It worries me - Carlisle said quietly - You know these imperial fuckers as well as I do. They won't lift a finger if they don't see the benefit to themselves.

\- You know I've never asked anyone for mercy! - Arthur burst out. Carlisle voiced something he was afraid to even think about. 

\- I know, kid, I know. Therefore, I beg you, be careful! - The old man sighed again and changed the topic - Here are some of your things left. When they took you, they turned everything upside down here. Took documents, notes and your laptop. Only clothes and some personal belongings remained.

\- Don't throw anything away, please - Arthur perked up. - I will look around here a little, but I have a feeling that my things will still come in handy. I won't stay here for long...

\- As you say, kid - the old man coughed - This is still your home, and you always know where to find me.

\- Thank you Car. Take care of Ophelia while I'm gone.

Ophelia, a fat ginger guinea pig, lived in a large iron cage, right next to the cash register, hypnotizing store customers with unblinking eyes. Arthur fed and cleaned up after her, and for this, Carlisle allowed her to hang out in the most conspicuous place. Everyone was happy, including Ophelia.

Arthur was about to text Willie when there was a knock on the door.

\- Come in - shouted Arthur and sat down on the bed.

The door opened, letting in an unfamiliar junior. He was short, probably a head shorter than Arthur himself, lean, with a long dark hair pulled in a tight braid. It was clear from his bright blue eyes that his dad was a human. And judging by the junior's age, he was probably one of the first babies born of a mixed union.

\- Hi - Junior smiled and hesitated in the doorway - Can I come in?

\- Hi, of course, come in! - Arthur looked at junior with interest. He was well-dressed, well-groomed, and judging by the smooth, graceful movement, also well-mannered. Not like Arthur. At that thought he snorted. 

_Little trained pets_

\- My name is Mark – junior introduced himself and looked around the room - My room is right across the wall. It's very nice in here.

 _Nicely_. There was nothing in the room except the things provided by the board of trustees. Oh, those good manners.

\- No, it’s not - Arthur replied with a grin - As in the barrack. I'm Arthur, by the way.

\- Nice to meet you - Mark smiled shyly.

Arthur moved over on the bed, dumped his clothes on the floor, and invited Mark to sit down. He carefully stepped over the clothes and sat on the edge of the bed.

\- Were you transferred from another university? - asked Mark.

\- What makes you think that?

\- Well, the school year had already started - he hesitated - and then you... I mean, it's good that you're here, but it's kind of weird...

\- No, I wasn’t _transfer_ \- Arthur was amused by the younger boy's confusion, as he tries to express his thoughts delicately. - I was _brought_. Violently.

\- I don't understand - the Mark's face became even more confused. - Do you enroll here by force? I thought it was an honor to study here, especially for junior...

\- And what's the junior worse than the senior?

\- I... - Junior got frightened - ...I think we are not worse, it's just... some things seniors can do better... I guess...

\- Your dad is a human, isn’t he? - Arthur changed the subject, realizing that at such a pace, this could be their last conversation.

\- Yes - said Mark, happily exhaling - He with father and my brothers are in the Empire now. Visit relatives.

\- How many brothers do you have? - Arthur asked.

\- Two. Both are senior. 10 and 13 years old - Mark took out his phone and showed Arthur a picture of him sitting in an embrace with two boys. The same dark-haired and bright-eyed. The only difference is the harsher features and short hair.

\- Cute guys – said Arthur. He really thought so. - Listen, how many junior students are here in total? To be honest, I was surprised that there were any…

\- Not many - after a little reflection answered Mark - probably no more than three dozen. Not all live on campus, many are local, and live with their parents. There are also a couple of junior teachers, but they're locals too, I mean humans.

\- I see - Arthur smiled - And what are you going to be?

\- I'd like to be an interior designer - Mark hesitated and blushed.

\- Well, then you will, if you want - Arthur encouraged him.

Suddenly, Mark turned pale and his lips quivered. Arthur even thought that the guy was going to cry.

\- I will not – the boy answered quietly and turned away - Father did not want me to come here at all. Dad insisted ... He agreed only because my senior studies here and will look after me.

\- Wait - Arthur interrupted him. It seemed to him that he had misheard - Do you have a senior?

\- Well, yes - Mark stared at Arthur in surprise.

\- And how old are you?

\- Will be sixteen in two months...

\- You're a minor. How do you have a senior?

\- We were betrothed when I was ten - Mark answered quite calmly - Arian, the son of my father's friend. They serve together.

\- Is your father a military man? - guessed Arthur.

\- Yes, he is.

\- Well then, it is understandable, the military is much more conservative - Arthur smiled crookedly. – But wait, if you are still allowed to study, and the senior is looking after you, then why do you think that you will not be able to get an education?

\- Because as soon as Arian graduates, we will get married - Mark lowered his head and now rubbed the hem of his shirt - and I'll do the housework...you know, the household, children...

He said it all in such a tone, and everything about his figure was so pitiful that Arthur's chest clenched. He gritted his teeth in anger and helplessness. It was as if right before his eyes the life and hopes of another person were crumbling, only because he was born the junior, and could give birth to bunch of imperial bastards, and please his senior. No one expected more from him, and no one cared what he wants, what he dreams of.

 _Scum_ s.

\- Mark! - An unfamiliar, harsh voice of the senior was heard in the hallway.

\- Oh, it's Arian! - Mark jumped up as if stung, put on a fake, learned smile and hurried to the exit. - I have to go. He doesn’t like it when I’m late. See you later?!

It was either a question, or a statement, Arthur did not understand. But he sat on the bed for a long time, not taking his eyes off the door, behind which Mark disappeared, and thought. He liked this damn place less and less.


	4. Chapter 4

The first lecture was on mathematics, given by Professor Melrose - a tall, arrogant-looking imperial, with narrow slit eyes, and glasses on a long, hooked nose. He looked skeptically at Arthur, the only junior in the crowded audience. And the only human.

The senior students looked at him with interest, whispering among themselves. Arthur grimaced - if testosterone could be seen, then there would probably be a whole cloud looming over the audience.

\- So you are _that very_ junior? - His desk mate asked in a whisper, a handsome-looking senior with tousled hair and big black eyes. He looked friendly, so Arthur decided not to be rude.

\- That very? – He grinned and looked around the audience - Do they already write about me in the student newspaper?

\- Almost – senior smiled – Let’s say, you are a rara avis here. By the way, my name is Claude.

\- Arthur - they shook hands. – A rara avis, you say?! Why's that?

\- Well ... we don't have many junior students at the university and none in the technical course - Claude whispered further - And when you were enrolled without exams, almost in the middle of the academic year ... and under such circumstances...

\- What circumstances? - Arthur wondered.

\- Martin ... - Claude grinned rather grimly - This moron almost crap his pants when the administration nailed him. Everyone was shook here ... he told that half of the course was cheating with your help...

\- Yap - Arthur grimaced dismissively.

\- Yeah ... but you should stay away from him - Claude said after a moment - Such pitiful goats, bark louder, and bite hardest. And his friends are the same.

\- Thanks for the information - Arthur said with a chuckle - I...

\- Did you come here to talk? - Arthur did not have time to finish, as they were interrupted by the cold voice of the professor. The eyes of everyone present turned to him and Claude.

_Shit_

\- I understand that the junior ones are rare here - continued the professor - But I would recommend you, to keep yourself together. That goes for you too, young man - the remark was already thrown in Arthur's direction. - We're here to do science, not to look for suitors.

Laughter ran through the audience. Arthur's blood drained from his face, but he remained silent, only clenching his fists under the desk.

_Imperial bitch_

During a long break, between classes, a young assistant to Professor Norton (he remembered him from their first meeting in the diner) found him and offered to give him a little tour of the university. In doing so, he gave Arthur a small map on which he then marked the places and routes they followed. They went to the math department, library, gym, and finally to the dining room. At the beginning, Patrick seemed aloof and not verbose, but by the end of the tour he got into conversation and even began to joke, telling local tales.

\- You must be hungry by now - Patrick finally said. - Come on, let's have a lunch, and you can figure out what's going on here.

Arthur remembered that he hadn't eaten since last night, and his stomach immediately rumbled. They entered the bright dining room, where students were sitting at numerous tables in groups. In a distant area there were counters with a variety of dishes, some under the iron hoods and on heated platforms, some like salads and fruits, just on the large dishes. Separately there were water and coffee machines. Taking the trays, they picked their food, and walked to the cash register which separates the hall from the kitchen and serving counters. Patrick took Arthur's ID and attached it to the machine. A photo of Arthur and his data appeared on the monitor. Patrick selected the payment section and entered the lunch details. The monitor processed the information and charged the payment from the card. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur noticed that Patrick had paid with a credit card, not a university ID. When they sat down at a free table, a little away from the entrance, Arthur asked:

\- Do you have an ID?

\- Yes, but not as yours - Patrick realized what junior was getting at. - You are under the care of the Board of Trustees, so all the functions necessary for life are fitted into your card. So that nothing distracts you from the main thing - study.

\- Can I find a job around here? - Arthur asked unexpectedly. He suddenly lost his appetite.

Patrick raised an eyebrow in surprise.

\- What for? You will be provided with everything you need.

\- I don't like it - Arthur frowned. - I don't want anyone to provide for me. I’ve always taken care of myself, and never asked anyone for help ... and I’ve never reported to anyone where and on what I spend my money. 

\- Well, all the juniors have such an ID - Patrick tried to justify himself - It's just that their expenses are controlled by the parents, replenishing their cards, and your by the Board of Trustees. You're no exception...

\- And yet - Arthur interrupted him - Please find out where I can get a job. I'm sure there is a place on campus for someone like me...

\- Okay - Patrick gasped - But don't tell Professor Norton, let alone to Ser Plank! They will punish both of us.

\- I promise - Arthur smiled and put a chicken leg on his fork.

They exchanged a few more words when Arthur suddenly heard his name. Turning around, he saw Mark walking with a tray in their direction. Seeing Patrick, his smile disappeared, he hesitated and was about to turn around and walk in the other direction, but Arthur waved his hand, inviting him to join. Mark sat down next to Arthur, and looked sideways at the senior.

\- Patrick - Arthur introduced him - This is Mark, my dorm mate.

\- Nice to meet you - Patrick was also slightly confused, and blushing he began to hurriedly pack. - I'm done anyway, so Arthur, we're waiting for you in the department after class. 

\- What's with him? - Arthur wondered, looking after the rapidly departing assistant. 

\- Nobody wants to communicate with juniors - Mark answered somehow too calmly, and began to sip a broth with a huge spoon.

\- Why?

\- Well, firstly, no one wants to be accused of inappropriate behavior - at these words, Mark rolled his eyes theatrically - and secondly, almost all juniors already have seniors, and no one wants to sort things out with them...

\- I see - Arthur said gloomily. He looked around the dining room again - And who do you usually have lunch with? With those guys from our floor?

\- Ryan and Keith? - Mark grimaced - No. They don't hang out with guys like me ... and I don't really want to.

\- What kind of guys? - Arthur wondered.

\- Not so noble - said Mark - They, and their kind, don’t eat in the common dining hall. They have their own cooks and all that ... if it weren’t for the university rules for nonresidents, they wouldn’t even live with us in the dorm...

\- And what about the teachers? You said there were juniors among them. Where do they eat? - Arthur wouldn't let up.

\- All teachers eat in a separate dining room, in the administrative building. But I've never been there.

The bell rang, symbolizing the end of the long break, and everyone in the hall fussed, jumped out of their seats, leaving half-eaten food and garbage scattered around. Mark and Arthur also got up and left the dining room. They said goodbye in the hallway and went their separate ways. 

After the last class, Arthur entered the department, where Professor Norton and Patrick were already waiting for him. The joyful professor sat junior in a chair and poured him coffee. Patrick brought in a stack of papers and sat down in the next chair. The professor remained at his desk. Norton's office was large and unexpectedly cozy. Creative disorder reigned all around. Along the walls, stretched bookcases filled with books and protruding papers, flasks, and trinkets. On one wall, between the shelves, was a huge blackboard, half covered with equations. Professor's desk, also piled with papers, stood by the window, so that the professor, sitting with his back to the window, was in the shadows. 

\- Well, young man - he happily rubbed his hands and sipped coffee. - Here you are in our abode of knowledge and great discoveries! I can't deny that Patrick and I are honored and fortunate to be able to influence the development of such a great mind as yours! How was your first day?

\- I thought it would be worse - Arthur answered frankly.

\- That’s fine, you get used to it. Of course, new place, new rules, new people ... - professor encouraged him and turned to Patrick. - Patrick, would you be so kind as to give Sire Arthur the tests so we don't waste time.

Patrick handed Arthur a stack of papers, which he had been holding in his lap the whole time.

\- These are annual tests in all disciplines - Patrick explained. - Don't worry if you don't know something, it doesn't affect anything, we just want to determine the general level of your knowledge so that, if necessary, assign additional courses.

\- You can sit at a separate table, I'm sure you'll be more comfortable there - Professor said, waving to the far corner.

Looking closer, Arthur noticed that there was actually a small table under the stacks of books and folios. Patrick quickly cleared it of all the accumulated debris, and putting up a chair, invites Arthur to sit down.

It took him three and a half hours to do everything. In order not to interfere his thinking, professor and his assistant, half whispered their business, only occasionally offering him water or coffee. When, finally, the last test was completed, Arthur got up, stretched, and satisfied, but tired, went to his dorm. 

In the hallway of the dorm, he bumped nose-to-nose with one of the juniors, his floor mate. Ryan or Keith - that's what Mark called them.

\- Hi

\- Hi – junior raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over the chest - Our little genius has come.

\- Don't be jealous - Arthur grunted and tried to bypass junior.

\- They say they found you in the trash, is it true? - He grinned, looking Arthur over from head to toe.

\- Yeah, it's true - Arthur smiled and walked right up to him – And I used to tear the throats, of the rats like you, with my teeth.

The junior turned pale and took a step back. He was almost a head shorter than Arthur, and more delicately built.

\- Savage – Junior spat out angrily and ran out into the street.

Arthur only shakes his head and storm to his room.


End file.
